


The Twenty-Third First

by amfiguree



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-13
Updated: 2014-01-13
Packaged: 2018-01-08 15:07:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1134116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amfiguree/pseuds/amfiguree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>David's had a lot of first kisses. And a lot of not-first ones too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Twenty-Third First

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this post](http://scoop-k.livejournal.com/316713.html).

David knows he can be a little naïve, and being oblivious is maybe something he's never going to outgrow, but neither of those things means he's stupid. Or blind.  
  
People seem to have a hard time remembering that. At least, they seem to have had a hard time remembering that since he joined Idol. David doesn't think high school was ever this difficult.  
  
Like, okay, the time Ramiele had approached him. It'd been their second week on Idol together, and she'd come to him, looked up at him from under her eyelashes and said, shyly, "I know this is kind of, like, out of the blue and everything, but..."  
  
It hadn't been, but David hadn't told her that, and they'd hung out in his dressing room for a while, making kind of awkward small talk and laughing over the prank that Cook and MJ had pulled on Jason that morning. Then Ramiele's hand had slipped up David's thigh, and David said, " _oh_ ," in surprise - because, okay, that he hadn't seen coming - and she'd tipped her head up and leaned into his space.  
  
Which was... it was a little weird. Ramiele was like an older sister, only David thought she seemed kind of lonely and sad, since Danny had left the show, so he wiggled his thigh out from under her hand and offered her his shoulder instead.  
  
"Oh, Archie," she'd sighed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."  
  
"It's, um, it's okay," he said, and patted her back. When he looks back, years later, David kind of wishes he hadn't done that.  
  
The next night, Carly'd waited till he was alone in his room to corner him. She'd backed him up against the wall - and, yeah, at that point he'd still been pretty terrified of her - and whispered urgently, "Have you really never been kissed?"  
  
"Um," David said.  
  
She'd given him the most appalled look he'd seen yet, then gripped his shoulder determinedly. "We're going to fix that," she said, and left before David could get another word in edgewise.  
  
So, yeah. People seem to think being a mormon means David's stupid, or super religious, or that he's planned the rest of his perfect American life out and isn't ever tempted to not wait till marriage to, like, um. Try stuff.  
  
Not Cook, though. David's pretty sure Cook sees right through him, that Cook knows exactly what he wants. Ever since Carly came out and pretty much told everyone that David's a - a _kissing virgin_ , Cook's been looking at David in a way that makes David's skin flush. A way that makes David wonder if, when Carly said they were going to fix it, if Cook might be--  
  
But then it's three days later, and it's Jason's mouth slanted over David's in a slow, lazy kiss. "Nothing to it, man, you see?" Jason drawls, as soon as it's over, then leans in for more. David says, "but I--" and then lets himself be kissed again.  
  
A couple of weeks later, Cook's gaze is making David walk around feeling miserable and uncomfortable and hot all the time, but Cook's still not _doing_ anything, which, gosh, is so frustrating. He's thinking as much when one of the make-up girls, Callie, starts hitting on him, and until now David still has no idea who put her up to it. One minute he'd been getting his eyelashes curled, and the next she'd been tipping her face over his shoulder, the scent of her too-sweet perfume and the gentle slope of her neck right under his nose.  
  
"Like, the girls were talking about how you'd never been kissed," she confides, with a giggle. "I really - I thought I'd try to help some."  
  
"Oh," David says; it worries him, for a second, that being randomly approached like this doesn't raise the same warning flags it used to. "Actually, I'm not--"  
  
Callie raises an eyebrow, eyes suddenly bright as she straightens and spins David around in his seat. "You're not?" she demands. "Oh my god, that's so cute! Is it someone from the show?"  
  
Only David doesn't answer the question, obviously, just adds quickly, "Oh, no, I didn't mean," and Callie makes a half-disappointed noise and ends up kissing him instead. There are a couple more people after that, Kelly, some of the stagehands, Kady, and Syesha too, once, half of whom David tries to come clean with, but they all react pretty much the same way Callie did, and then it just seems easier not to try.  
  
Cook's still watching him, though, sitting a little too close at the breakfast tables, lingering a little too long when they hug. It makes David's skin crawl. Except not in a creepy way.  
  
Totally not in a creepy way.  
  
Time slips by, and before he knows it, David's numbers have racked up, like, _a lot_ , only it's not even really all his fault, because... well, okay, he still needs to work on that line of reasoning a little bit. And then Cook wins Idol, and David feels a little surprised when all that does is make him look at Cook a little bit more. Which, like, he didn't even think that was possible, and now when Cook puts an arm around his shoulder, he feels a warm... _something_ twist deep in his stomach, and it makes him squirm and ache all at once.  
  
They've been skirting around it for months now, _months_ , and David generally likes to think that he's a really patient person, but he's getting really tired of coming back to his hotel room alone and having to, um, in the shower alone. Also, he feels bad for wasting all that water.  
  
But Cook's still not making any moves, and - well, David supposes _he_ could... but no. And actually, he's starting to wonder if he was right about Cook after all, because of the thing with Kimberly that, like, everyone is talking about, but then they go on tour and when MJ asks about it, Cook just shrugs and says, "I don't think so," which makes David think, _okay, maybe_.  
  
Except later, the last night of the tour, they all go out together to celebrate in the hotel bar, all ten of them, and Cook slings his arm around one of the waitresses early in the evening, tugs her into his lap, and doesn't let go.  
  
David doesn't know where to look all night, except for the couple of times he looks up, and Cook is kind of kissing under her jaw, hand high on her chest, rubbing the fabric of her shirt right where it stretches across - um. David really doesn't mean to stare after that, but Cook catches him at it anyway, and his eyes are so, so dark, and he doesn't stop looking at David as he _licks into her mouth, gosh_ and David shivers and puts his head down miserably.  
  
Maybe all that talk about him being stupid isn't, like, completely off the mark.  
  
"Hey, man," Jason says. "You okay?"  
  
David shakes his head no, keeping his gaze on the floor, and he barely hears it when Jason adds, "I'm gonna take Archie back to his room," to the group at large, and steers him towards the elevator. Once they're inside, Jason presses close and bumps David's shoulder with his own. "D'you want some company?"  
  
There's something in the way he says it that makes David think, _oh_. He means to say 'yes, okay', but all he can think about is Cook, and his throat kind of closes in on itself a little bit, and he croaks out a, "oh, no, I don't think," instead.  
  
Jason squeezes his arm, offering him an easy smile. "Okay," he says. It's surprisingly gentle, though David isn't entirely sure that's not just the drugs talking. "We'll just get you back to your room."  
  
They only make it as far as the corridor, though. Cook's already standing there, right outside David's door, hands dug deep into his jean pockets, hair completely tousled, looking like he just ran a mile. And then David realizes that Cook must have taken the stairs, to have gotten here before he did. He looks down again, and the silence stretches.  
  
"Oh-kay," Jason says. "I have to go do, uh, something."  
  
"Real smooth, Castro," Cook calls, staring after him, but they can only avoid looking at each other so long. "Uh," Cook says finally, on an exhale. "Hey."  
  
"Hey," David says, morosely. "What happened to the waitress?" Which is a little mean. And David isn't - doesn't want to be, so he wets his lips and tries to smile.  
  
"Yeah," Cook nods, sounding a little strangled. He's already reaching a hand out, and David watches as it closes around his shirt. "About that."  
  
And then Cook's _kissing_ him, one hand warm around his neck and the other still tipped gently against his chest, and it's really - it's, um. David makes a little sound at the back of his throat when Cook pulls away, and breathes out, "Wow."  
  
"Inside?" Cook murmurs, and David says, "yes, okay," and pulls out his card key. He can't get his fingers to work fast enough, though, and it takes two minutes too long and three false starts for him to get them both through the door.  
  
Cook laughs, all rough and warm, and leans back against the door to close it. He angles a smile at David, then, slow and heated, and there's no way David can _not_ reach up again, because oh my gosh, Cook's _mouth_. "So this is okay?" Cook says, just before David gets there.  
  
"Oh, yes," David nods, because - duh. Is Cook _crazy_? "Much better than the last time," he adds, and inclines his head. There's a pause, and then--  
  
And then Cook pushes him away, and David's heartbeat stumbles mid-gallop. It's not, like, a shove or anything, not even close, but-- "The last time?" Cook asks.  
  
David blinks. "What?"  
  
"The last time," Cook repeats, and suddenly David realizes - oh. "So this isn't your first kiss."  
  
"Oh, no," David says, and shakes his head. "That was, like, way back in high school. I just - it's easier when I say that here because, like, the first couple of times I didn't, people just seemed a lot more interested in finding out who than in, um, kissing me." He shrugs a little, and then realizes that maybe that's a big deal to Cook, and he looks up in alarm. But Cook doesn't _look_ angry or anything, just a little sad and resigned, and David reaches for his arm unthinkingly. "Oh, but if - I didn't know -- you can still pretend that was my first kiss?"  
  
Cook huffs out a laugh, and then he's smiling, the way he does when he thinks David's said something funny. Not for the first time, David doesn't see the punch line. "Jesus, Archie," Cook says, then, on another laugh. "If you'd just _said_ something, we could've--"  
  
"Wait," David interrupts. "Wait, so you - but I thought you knew--"  
  
"Clearly," Cook replies, but he's mocking now. David knows he's mocking. "Clearly, I knew everything, which is why I chose to wait this long."  
  
"Cook," David says, and he doesn't even care that Cook looks simultaneously amused and exasperated, because he's close to laughing himself. "Cook, I'm almost _eighteen_. I don't - did you really think...?"  
  
"Dude," Cook grins. "Carly pretty much told the entire universe that you were the Idol version of Drew Barrymore. I felt like I was trying to get into Mother Mary's pants."  
  
David's mouth falls open. "Cook! You can't - don't say that!"  
  
Cook cracks up.  
  
"I'm serious!" David protests. And then he adds, a little belatedly, "But, so - you did want to, um, get in my pants?"  
  
Cook just stares at him, then laughs even harder, and buries his face into the crook of David's neck.  
  
"It's not funny!" David says, but he stays really, really still. Cook's hands are big and warm on his back, and Cook's close enough that David can press a brief finger to Cook's collarbone, feel Cook's pulse going too-quick under his skin.  
  
Cook looks up at the touch. He isn't laughing anymore. His eyes have gone all dark, the same as before, and he's watching David like - like...  
  
David's mouth goes dry. "You shouldn't," he tries again, faintly.  
  
"No," Cook says, as he slides a hand up into David's hair and tugs David forward. "Shut up. I've waited an entire goddamn _year_. Fuck me if I'm waiting anymore."  
  
"Okay," David whispers, because it really is, and then Cook's thumb is stroking along his jawline, and Cook's mouth is hot on his own, and Cook's kisses are perfect, and wonderful and - oh. _Oh_.  
  
Gosh.


End file.
